


At the end of your dreams

by AnonymousOtter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Introspection, Post-Canon, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousOtter/pseuds/AnonymousOtter
Summary: As Claude's dreams are finally within reach, doubts still cloud his mind.-Post S-Support/Verdant Wind route
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	At the end of your dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent angst fest because if you ask me, this boy also needs some good old therapy.

Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Claude’s brain never shut down. He had always been like that. Ever since he started to form his first sentences as a child, he would question everything. The world was but a big playground for him, a mystery that he firmly intended to solve.

In another world, under other circumstances, Claude probably would have become a researcher or an explorer. A professor even, maybe. But fate had crueller plans in store for him and before he could truly grasp the meaning of it all, this restless brain of his had to be put to more practical uses. Years of pretending, planning, lying, scheming and second-guessing every action and every word coming out of his mouth to ensure his survival had turned him into a brilliant, but somewhat broken man.

That, of course, very few people knew about. It had been nearly eight years since he had flown to Fódlan, and yet he could count on his fingers the number of people who grasped that aspect of him. And sadly, he knew the count was not that much higher in Almyra.

When he met Byleth seven years ago, he hated her. Seeing her so close to Rhea ignited a fire into him he thought extinguished long ago. Claude hated the Church, their lies and false prophecies that created doubt and fear in the mind of people. He hated that Byleth could use a relic when he had wanted one of his own for so long. But as he acted more impetuous and insolent towards her, she repaid him with kindness. She stood up for him, always, even when she had no reason to. She trusted him when he was acting so shady even his own comrades wouldn’t have done so. And when he figured she could make the impossible possible, his pipe dreams started to feel more tangible with every passing day. With her by his side, he started to open up. Before long, she became his ally, his friend, his family.

The war was finally over now, and the end of his own lifelong fight seemed to be within reach. As always, he put up a façade before taking his leave, so no one in Garreg Mach would suspect how awful he truly felt inside to leave them all behind. “A leader must smile at all times,” he had told Byleth once, and so once again, he obliged. As he flew away from Garreg Mach, he tried to focus his mind on the fresh wind slapping his face to forget the dread settling inside his guts. The idea of coming back to Almyra was making him sicker with every new mountain range and river he crossed. And yet, he had no other choice.

He thought about Byleth that he had left alone at the top of the Goddess Tower, her eyes red with tears. He shook his head in a desperate attempt to prevent his thoughts from wandering to her, to the sorrow he could read on her face that was usually so stoic. Confessing his feelings and giving her that ring he had bought a few months prior had been fairly easy. But to admit that she used to be no more than a tool to fulfil his ambitions … this had been harder, somehow. He didn’t apologise about it. Truth to be told, he was not sorry. Wouldn’t everyone have done the same were they in his shoes? That’s what he kept telling himself back then, as he was repeating this little speech in his head, waiting for her to join him in the Goddess Tower. And just like that, he had convinced himself Byleth would not reject him, that she would forgive his schemes, even when he was not asking for forgiveness. Yet, he still felt strangely relieved when she simply nodded at his words with a kind smile painted on her lips. He realised then that she probably already knew about his manipulation and about his feelings for her as well. She was good at reading people, after all. Yes, she surely knew from the start, didn’t she…?

Yet, even after offering her his heart and a ring, Claude was aware there were still many things he was not ready to tell her. Oh, he tried several times, but the words would not really leave his lips; they would just die there as he told her about his dreams and ambitions while a sad smile ornated his face. He wished he could have found the words to make her understand how deep his sorrow ran, that he wasn’t leaving her because she was less important than his own ambitions, that he just wouldn’t know peace before he had settled the score once and for all. He wanted to make things right with her, to bring life to their Dawn on an even ground and for that, he had to fight all alone again in the place he took refuge from years ago. And while this idea terrified him, he had smiled and winked at her as he departed.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The few months Claude spent in Almyra felt like an eternity. When he left for Fódlan back when he was just a teenager, he was not a serious candidate for the throne in his homeland. The kid he was back then was just too vulnerable, too weak, too unprepared. And he knew well enough he probably was not more suited for the title nowadays, for he had no control over the one true reason he had been pushed aside by his relatives in the first place.

He was aware the Almyran nobles would already know all about his new exploits abroad thanks to their spies and to the merchants carrying gossips in their luggage. Still, he had to be extra cautious. That’s why he had taken Failnaught with him. At this point, just looking at it and feeling its pulse in his hand was making him sick. He wanted a relic so badly, back in the days, as if owning one would suddenly give him the key to his happiness. Now that he knew the terrible truth about their nature, he would have never touched one ever again had it been an option. He had sworn silently to himself that when the time would come, he’d put the bow into a place where no one would ever find it, even if it had to be in Almyra. Still, having the relic with him probably helped to convince his father to abdicate into his favour -or so he liked to believe. The other dirty tricks he had to use to get the throne, he’d rather not think about too much.

Every night, when the sun disappeared under the horizon to the West, he’d remember with a heavy heart how easy being a loner used to be back then, when he was just dreaming about an impossible future like a naive child. But his dreams now felt so close; it was as if he could touch them. And the closer he was getting, the more he feared that all of this would suddenly end. What if he couldn’t make it, after all? What if all of this was too big for him? That little voice in his brain never shut up and so he kept fighting harder, day after day, month after month, preparing for his return, thinking about his dawn that was awaiting far West, on the other side of the border. About Byleth.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

When the Almyran army appeared into the sky on this late afternoon, the soldiers of the newly founded Kingdom of Fódlan first thought enemy reinforcements were coming. Truth to be told, it was a miracle Almyra had not taken advantage of the chaotic situation to raid them sooner. But with every arrow piercing their enemies, the Kingdom soldiers started to realise the unthinkable: their lifelong enemies had come to their rescue.

Everything became clearer when the chaos settled down and Claude finally showed himself, golden regalia on his head and a conquering smile painted on his face. He dismounted, kneeled in the dirt in front of a Byleth covered in blood and, looking as dashing and cocky as ever, he took her hand into his and paid his respects.

“Almyra offers its support as a proof of friendship, Queen Byleth Eisner,” he said in a solemn voice that didn’t fit him that well.

As he kissed her hand and his lips brushed over the emerald ring on her finger, he lifted up his eyes and their gazes met for the first time since he had left. Byleth was smiling, a smile so bright and warm he got lost into it for what felt like minutes, his own grin so large his cheeks were almost hurting.

“I’m back,” he simply added.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

They didn’t talk much afterwards, they had no real time to, and they didn’t feel like it was appropriate when there were so many people around them studying their behaviour so closely.

They decided to sit side by side in the dining hall and shared platitudes as everyone was celebrating the victory and the newly found friendship between Fódlan and Almyra with a giant feast. Byleth was trying hard to focus on what her advisors and commanders were shouting at her from across the table, but their words got lost before they could even reach her ears, for all her brain could think about was Claude seated by her side, his body towering hers and his warm hand holding hers tightly under the table. She risked a glance at him and repressed a laugh when she realised by his absent gaze that he was obviously feeling the same.

When the party finally ended and everyone left to their own apartments, they simply exchanged a polite smile, wished each other goodnight, and parted their own ways, promising to catch up with each other first thing next morning. Back to her bedroom, Byleth indulged herself a warm bath. The night was already running late and it had been a very long day, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to find sleep anytime soon. The adrenaline from the battle was still pumping in her veins and the excitement of seeing Claude again did not help. The situation felt unreal. She changed into simpler dark robes and decided to brew some tea. It was her little ritual for nights like these, it reminded her of simpler times back at the monastery. She arranged the pot and her favourite cup on a tray and started to leave her room before she took a small pause. She went back on her tracks and picked a second cup.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

It was very dark in the manor but the full moon was shedding its light on the corridors and so it was not that hard for Byleth to find her way. By now, she knew the layout of the manor by heart. Spring was not there yet, but the weather was always warm in Derdriu, even at that time of the year. No one could be seen save for the usual soldiers on duty who looked at her funny as she made her way to the gardens, trying hard not to spill her teapot on the ground.

As she expected, she found Claude in the garden near a small fountain, seated on a stone bench. He was looking at the stars and under the moonlight, his green eyes were gleaming like two emeralds. He too had changed to lighter, looser clothes and from the delicate scent of rose floating in the air, Byleth knew he had taken a well-deserved bath as well. If he noticed her, then he did not show it. The look on his face was one she knew well and that he would only really show when there were alone. His expression was solemn and deeply concerned, but above all, he looked exhausted. Small drops of water were still falling from his damp hair when he heard her footsteps and turned around to face her.

“Eh, it’s pretty late! What brings you here, my friend?”

His voice was fainting surprise but from the look on his face, it was obvious he fully expected to see her.

“I brought some tea, do you want some?” she simply asked in response, and she put the tray right beside him on the bench. Without waiting for his answer, she sat on the opposite side and started to fill the cups.

“People from the mansion told me this was your favourite place back when you lived here,” she added.

Claude only left out a chuckle as an answer and started to drink his tea. He was hiding his face behind his cup, but Byleth saw from the slight coloration on his cheeks that he was flustered (or maybe flattered?) at the implication she had asked about him while he was away. Claude acted cocky and confident, but he was not really used to that sort of attention.

It was true that he had already been separated from her for a much longer period than those few months spent in Almyra, so maybe those did not feel so bad for him. But because of her deep, five-year-long slumber, things were different for Byleth. From her point of view, between that night in Remire village where they first met and the moment he left her in Garreg Mach to fly off to distant lands, there had not been a single day she had spent without Claude.

Being so suddenly separated from him, if only for a few moons, had left a void in the place her heart should have been. Sure, her mind was occupied every day working hard to put Fódlan back together, but not having him by her side felt _so weird_. They exchanged some letters during that time, but those were of the professional kind behind the usual laid-back, yet empty tone Claude always used when talking with his strategical allies. She understood him and his reasons, of course. For now, he had to focus on things more important than love and the same could be said of her. But when he disappeared into the rising sun to go back to Almyra, she couldn’t help but to resent him a little.

She brushed away that bad memory, the hot and spicy taste of the tea bringing her back to her senses. Watching him, she could feel the warmth slowly coming back to her body.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

They both sat there in silence for what felt like a long time, sipping their tea and enjoying the sound of the wind blowing slowly into the branches of the trees and of the waves crashing on the shore below the castle. Byleth thought about all these moments spent together like this, just the two of them. The long, sleepless nights watching the stars and discussing strategy, philosophy and dreams. And the more intimate moments where Claude just wanted to stay with her, not saying a word but showing his affection all the same through his honest smiles and his brilliant, green eyes.

Once they finished their tea, Claude put the cups aside on the ground behind him, straightened up and slowly moved closer to Byleth until he was able to touch her hand with the tip of his fingers. She was looking at him without saying a word, smiling sheepishly, her bright green hair radiant in the moonlight, and he took it as a silent authorisation to grow bolder. He took her hand into his and kissed her knuckles softly for the second time this day. This time, however, it wasn’t just a formal salute between a king and a queen. The ring on her finger was gleaming as the proof of the promise made that day in the Goddess Tower. His gesture slowly turned into an embrace.

Pressed firmly against his chest, Byleth left out a sight and wondered if every heart was supposed to beat this fast, or if it was only his that sounded like that. She let his warmth and his strangely familiar scent engulf her. Oh, yes, she had missed him. It was only the second time they were touching each other like that and yet it felt familiar. It felt like home. Byleth had not experienced many hugs in her life to make a fair comparison, but she decided Claude’s were the best.

“I told you I would come back to you,” he whispered.

“And I never doubted,” she answered simply.

They stayed like that, clinging into one another, as if to make up for the months spent apart and for the words of affection they never really dared to tell each other. They spoke of trivial things and of more serious matters about the future, engagement and politics and strategies, their voices soft, unconcerned and muffled in their embrace.

Everything still felt so unreal for Byleth. Her position as a queen, her responsibilities, her engagement, that future that was lying ahead of them. Her feelings. But she was never one to think too hard about the things to come and even with his secrets and half-truths, deep down she felt like she knew Claude better than she knew herself. She trusted him deeply.

When he proposed to her a few months ago, he was so casual about it a passer-by would have assumed he was bringing yet another of his scheme on the table. But Byleth knew better, for she heard the small, unusual hesitation in his voice. She was not surprised he proposed. It just felt like the natural conclusion of a bond so strong they could understand each other without saying a word. She knew of his devotion and sacrifices. Maybe, surely, they looked like an unusual pair to most people. The outspoken, roguish king, and the stoic mercenary with a bloody past. The Master Tactician and the Ashen Demon. She didn’t care. Feeling his arms around her and his heart beating so steadily against her chest grounded her, and it was enough.

Yet, she could sense a slight discomfort in Claude. A feeling hard to really pinpoint, but there was something in the way his body slowly started to stiffen up. At first, she thought it was because their position wasn’t exactly a comfortable one, but at the sound of his voice, which was clearly getting lower with every new word crossing his lips, she realised something was wrong. He finally left out a deep sight, and, his voice trembling, he murmured a soft and almost silent “sorry”.

Byleth paused for a second.

“What are apologising for, Claude?” she asked, turning her head towards him so she would be able to catch his eyes. To no avail, however, as he was deliberately looking to the other side, so she was facing the back of his head. It was hard to truly tell in the moonlight and from this angle, but she figured he was blushing from the colour of his ear.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry that I used you. That I left you behind. That I have you play this role when you don’t want to. I know I explained it all before, but… I never apologised properly. I should have been more upfront with you.”

Byleth slowly escaped from his embrace and observed him. Unlike him, she wasn’t good with words. However, they both shared a talent at reading people, and so she tried hard to see through his mask. He looked so vulnerable, his hair ruffled and his eyes dark, avoiding her gaze. This sight was so unlike him, it was almost painful to look at. She didn’t really know how to react at first, so she just followed her guts and took his head between her hands, forcing him to face her. Before he could even protest, she gently pressed his face against her chest.

“You don’t have to apologise,” she said softly, her chin caressing the top of his head.

“Besides, why should I resent you for that? Many people would have done the same, especially with dreams as big as yours at stake.”

_How typical of her_ , Claude thought, _to repeat my words even when she never heard them_. She knew him so well. And as an answer, he wrapped his arms around her waist and tightened his grasp, burying his face further into her.

“Is this really what you think, Byleth?” he asked. “Everyone is always so supportive with me now. They used to spit on me and now they all say I’m a good leader. Heck, Count Gloucester even called me a ‘visionary’ in a letter the other day. But the truth is…”

He paused a moment. He wasn’t sure these words were really meant to be heard. They were dangerous words; words that could change everything. But he had been alone with them for so long, he decided to continue with a voice so low Byleth could barely hear him. 

“I don’t think ‘Claude, King of Almyra’ fits me any better than ‘Claude, Duke of Riegan’ did.”

It sounded like a confession and Byleth was taken by surprise.

“Mmmh,” she murmured, “I don’t know, it has a nice ring to it. Still more convincing than ‘Byleth, Queen of Fódlan’, if you ask me.”

She intended it as a joke but she knew it was not the answer he was excepting by the way his body trembled and she mentally reprimanded herself.

“Can I tell you a story...?” murmured Claude. At this point, his voice was trembling. Truth to be told, it wasn’t really a question and it probably was more directed at himself than at her, but Byleth answered anyway.

“Please do,” she simply said.

“Once upon a time, there was a young boy who had a secret,” he began. “His life was not that bad compared to that of many people; he lived in wealth and his parents loved him deeply. But he was cursed and if some days were good, some others were so bad he would sometimes struggle to find the will to live. His secret was that during such nights, he would crawl out of bed and climb the highest tower of the city. From its roof, he would talk to the divinities of his world. They were not common gods, no, they were his, and his alone. They never answered but he knew they listened, and so he prayed to them all the same that one day, his suffering would end. He knew there was no remedy for his curse but believing that things could get better was enough to push him to live through the next day.

“And one day, finally, his prayers were answered. His celestial gods acknowledged his existence and granted him a miracle. It should have made him happy, it really should. But it didn’t. See, up until now, his dreams were no more than that, dreams. They were a comforting presence, a warm feeling that would accompany him during the loneliest nights. But now that they had become tangible, the boy realised how fleeting and fragile they truly were. How he had put all his hopes into these dreams to the point he had forgotten how to function without them. And he wondered what would happen if they were to disappear, what would be left of him at the end of it all? So he climbed to the roof of the highest tower again and again, night after night, looking for an answer, but the gods never ever spoke to him again.”

Byleth stayed silent for a long time. They were many things she had taken for granted and Claude’s absolute confidence in his future was one of them. He guided her through her own doubts and turmoil, and she always admired him for that. Complicated words wouldn’t do for an answer, she realised. She slowly caressed his head. His hair was soft and a bit wet under her fingers. She lowered her head and whispered in his ear.

“I’m not good with feelings.”

He chuckled at these words, but she took no offence.

“There are many things I cannot understand,” she continued. “You helped me, but you never let anyone help you in return. You are always so hard on yourself, so kind, even if you will deny it. It has always been like that, even back at the academy. You watched over the others … and over me as well. You gave a purpose to my existence when I had none. I want to do the same for you.

“Because what I _do_ know is that you were always there for me. You helped me figure out my feelings, the meaning of my life. It was so frightening, you have no idea! Even today, I’m still not sure of what will become of me… But you accepted me. You waited for me. You didn’t let me go. You stayed by my side and you took my hand. You had promised all of that, remember? And you kept that promise! So now, I want to remind you of another thing you said, because I trust your words.”

She took a deep breath, straightened herself and spoke, voice clear and loud.

“You and me, we can go anywhere, do anything!”

She paused for a few seconds. It definitely sounded cornier than what she had in mind and she hoped she didn’t offend him somehow. She tried to ignore the second-hand embarrassment settling into her guts because of his total lack of response. Byleth realised it was probably the first time she ever spoke that much, and she felt a bit overwhelmed by the feeling. Claude had done so much for her and she wanted to give his kindness back, and this time not through some strategical alliance. She hoped her words, as clumsy as they were, would be able to reach him.

She was slowly starting to understand something was off with Claude. She always suspected it, of course, but she never truly grasped it before because he always kept his guard up, even with her. The way he was studying so hard and so late, how he was throwing himself into hopeless battles, fighting again and again, present with them in body but his mind obviously focused elsewhere… All of this she knew was betraying a wound deeper than she could ever imagine.

She was starting to worry about his lack of reaction when she felt something wet against her chest. Claude was crying. Quiet whines escaped his mouth and his body trembled gently. She caressed his hair, humming a melody Jeralt taught her when she was a child. She thought about the day he died, and how Claude had tried to comfort her in his own, awkward way. About how it was probably a distant memory for him when it was barely a year ago for her.

Of course, Claude would never know about that feeling lingering in her chest, about those five years she had lost, about her fears about the future and about her true nature. And in return, she would never know about the weight of the burden he was carrying. Wasn’t this world so strange…? They could be talking for hours, they could read the content of an entire library, travel the world together, stay as close as possible in body and mind… And yet, neither of them would ever be able to truly share that part of themselves. Together, yet far apart. But as she was hearing him sob quietly, buried into her chest and clenched to her as if his life depended on it, Byleth felt like she was starting to perceive a part of him only she was ever allowed to see.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Claude couldn’t remember the last time he cried like this. He didn’t really allow himself to, not even when he was alone. His allies were all admiring his resolve and his vision, but deep down he knew better than anyone else the reason why he was fighting for. His wish truly was nothing more than the selfish dream of a child. How many years had it been, really? How many sleepless nights? He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt at peace. All he had was that burden, so heavy on his chest no words, no actions seemed enough to lift it, if only a little. Maybe deep down, he feared all his efforts would be in vain, that there was no escape.

“You’ve spent all your life chasing a dream, but what if it was unreachable?”

“What if you won’t ever be satisfied?”

“What if there’s no salvation, no peace, no place for you?”

“What if you will never belong?”

That’s what that voice in his head would repeat, day after day.

But in that instant, pressed against Byleth and engulfed by her warmth, he could feel the burden becoming lighter with every new tear escaping his eyes. Byleth didn’t know, she _couldn’t_ know how he truly felt. But she knew the words he wanted to hear. And those words, he also knew them well. He had spoken them before, many times, to all these people who needed his help. To Marianne, struggling with her depression. To Lysithea, who came to find him one night terrified by her cursed destiny. And for once, he finally let himself hear them as well. It felt like a dam had broken into him and the mask he had been wearing for so many years out of fear was starting to crack. It felt liberating in a way he would have never expected.

When there were no more tears to be shed, he suddenly became very self-aware about his condition, and after a sniff he intended to be more discreet, he realised he had ruined Byleth’s robes with his tears and snot. Embarrassed or maybe a bit intimidated, he finally separated from her and straightened up. He looked like hell, his eyes red and his nose runny, but if the fond look on her face was any indication, Byleth clearly didn’t care. She looked at him right in the eyes, smiling gently. Under the moonlight, she looked like a divine figure. As he held her gaze, he slowly cupped her cheeks with his hands and rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he said. The words were simple, but they came from deep within him.

Byleth didn’t answer. Instead, she just put her right hand on his cheek, closed her eyes and left a soft kiss on his lips. It was shy, some would say prudish, even, but it was sincere all the same. Surprised by her gesture at first, Claude smiled into her lips and kissed her back with more confidence.

“You are really warm,” he whispered in a chuckle as he separated from her, the tears on his cheeks already dry.

Dawn was nearing as they went back to Byleth’s quarters, hands intertwined. Both of them knew it would come with its share of new challenges and hardships and grief, but none of this really mattered any more. The king from a land far away and the queen with no heart, both strangers to this new world they had given birth to, both outsiders… They had found their place in each other and a shoulder to lay on.

The gods never spoke to him again, but he did not miss them. The curse he had carried with him for so long would never be his alone any more and eventually, the voice became silent.


End file.
